Yours, Mine, Ours?
by pokemon fan 98
Summary: When agents Phil Coulson and Melinda May are ordered to go on a long term undercover assignment, their families are dragged into it – especially their children. May's kids (Skye, Trip, and Fitz) don't get along well with Phil's (Grant and Jemma). So when Phil and May realize they like living as a big family... problems arise. Family AU. Temporarily on hold (sorry, I'm stuck).
1. A New Assignment

**A/N: So this is totally based on the movie "Yours, Mine, and Ours." I'd been thinking about doing a family AU, and the movie popped into my head. And here we are! It'll be different, of course, but that's where the idea came from. I'm trying to decide how many kids they should have. Obviously Jemma, Fitz, Grant, and Skye, but beyond that... I'm not sure. Maybe Trip too? Let me know what you think!**

"You've gotta be kidding," May said.

"Which part of my tone makes you think this is a joke?" Fury asked with a raised brow.

"I told you I can't do long-term missions anymore," May said through clenched teeth. They'd been through this years ago. "I have a family."

"I'm well aware you adopted those kids, and I'm glad you did. But the only way we're gonna get these scumbags is with time."

"So you want me to leave them for weeks, maybe months, to get some arms dealers? I won't do that."

Fury sighed. "If you'd let me finish before you went off on me," he said sternly, "you'd know I want your children to go with you."

That stopped May short. "How?"

"You know the targets live in a neighborhood. They've got a little family of their own. Best way to get to them is to connect – which means a family in their neighborhood."

May studied him and dipped her head. "Sorry for jumping to conclusions."

Fury stood. "I know it's a lot to move a family, but tell them it's a team-building exercise you have to do. That's what Phil's doing with his kids."

May frowned. "Phil?"

"Did I forget to mention that part?" Fury smiled, and she wanted to throttle him because of how much he seemed to be enjoying himself. "Phil Coulson's your partner for most of your missions. You work well together, and we need that. For this assignment, he's going to pretend to be your husband."

May was tense, staring past him.

"Phil, come on in."

She heard footsteps behind her, and saw Phil in the corner of her eye. "Hey May," he said with that genuine smile he had.

"You knew about this?" she asked.

"Only for an hour," he said reasonably.

Fury grabbed something from the edge of his desk and walked up to them. "You should get used to wearing these." He held out two silver wedding bands, glistening between his fingertips. His smile was still infuriating as he looked between them.

Phil had the decency to seem a bit embarrassed, when he met May's eyes. May tried not to show how unhappy she was. It wasn't Phil's fault their families were about to be uprooted. That fault was with Fury.

"Oh, and one more thing," Fury said as May took her ring and Phil took his. May placed the ring on her finger and looked at him – expectantly, but sharply. His expression sobered.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."


	2. Telling the Kids

**A/N: I'm glad people liked the little prologue for this. It's fun writing a family AU, especially since we have so long to go until the show starts up again. But awesome news, if you haven't heard: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. has been renewed through season 7! I found out right after I posted the first chapter of this story, and it made my night. We actually get a season without having to worry about it getting renewed, guys! It's fantastic!**

 **Anyway, here's chapter two!**

May hung up her jacket and keys. "I'm home," she called.

"Hey Mom!"

She walked into the living room to find Skye spread over the couch, one earbud in. When May walked in, Skye set down her magazine. "You're home late."

"The Director needed to talk to me."

Skye sat up, looking at her carefully and taking out the earbud. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," May said. "But we need to have a family meeting tonight."

Skye put her earbud back in, laying back down. "Good luck getting Fitz down here. He got some new robot from school and shut himself in his room."

May walked into the kitchen. If they had any chance of eating near normal time, she had to get it started. So she took a few minutes to preheat the oven and put broccoli in the steamer, and slide the chicken into the oven. She also set out the instant mashed potatoes. Once everything besides the potatoes was cooking she headed upstairs, walking to Fitz's room and knocking on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Mom."

Fitz opened the door a few seconds later. Though he did look at her, he was moving back to his desk by the time she walked into the room. She could see how littered the desk was with tiny mechanical parts, and knew he was taking an inside look at whatever his teacher had given him.

"Dinner should be ready in half an hour," May said, leaning on the doorframe. "How was school?"

He brought his sharp gaze to the blueprints taped on the wall, and she knew his thoughts were far away. "Fine."

Part of her wished he would open up more, but she couldn't really blame him for keeping to himself. She did the same thing. Fortunately, Fitz seemed to be the only one to have taken after her that way. She'd had to tell Trip it was okay to keep a few things secret, the boy volunteered so much information.

"We're gonna have a family meeting after dinner," she said. "We've got something important to discuss."

That seemed to get his attention, at least for a second. He met her eyes and nodded, his face suddenly more serious. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

She closed his door and went to Trip's. Her older boy's door was usually open. He liked using noise-cancelling headphones, so he didn't really hear knocks on the door. Instead, he relied on sight, looking up whenever he saw movement in his field of vision. He saw May immediately when she stepped into the room, and turned to her with a smile. "Hey Mom."

"Sorry I'm a bit late. Dinner will be ready in half an hour, and then a family meeting."

He stood up. "Skye still on the couch?"

"Yes."

He seemed oddly eager as he walked with May downstairs. May realized why when she was starting to set out plates, and heard Skye's raised voice saying "Trip, I was reading that!" May smiled to herself. If she had to guess, she'd say Trip was berating Skye for procrastinating. May had asked him to help her focus; Trip had taken that assignment very seriously.

When the three of them came to the table, May decided to come out with it before they finished. She couldn't wait any longer. "Director Fury gave me a new assignment, and it involves all of us," she said. "It's not permanent, so try not to freak out: we're moving to a different house."

Skye almost choked on her milk. When she recovered, she set the glass down and looked at May. "What?"

"Fury needs Coulson and I to go undercover. It could take a while, so we're gonna pretend we're one family, and live in the same house for as long as the mission takes."

"We're gonna live with strangers?" Trip asked.

"You know Agent Coulson," May said. "And you've met his kids before."

"But we don't know them," Fitz said calmly.

May softened. "No, I don't really know them either. We'll get to know them, though."

"You're actually serious?" Skye asked.

May held up her hand, and watched as three sets of eyes settled on the silver wedding band. She didn't wear jewelry, so they recognized it for what it was. "I know there's a better way to do this," May said when they were silent for a few seconds, "and you deserve more time. But we're moving in this weekend."

Skye was staring at her as if she'd betrayed her. May reached her hand out instinctively. Skye flinched and stood, walking out of the room. May was tempted to call after her, but let her leave. She'd understood that this would be harder for them than for herself. She looked at the boys, bracing herself for similar reactions.

Trip was looking after Skye with concern clear in the set of his brows. Fitz had shrunk into himself, whatever he was thinking almost unreadable. Almost. She was his mother, so she could tell he wasn't happy. It was beyond that that she wasn't sure.

She picked up her fork. "Don't let your food get cold."

Trip started eating again. Fitz just looked at her for a second and sipped at his drink until the meal was over.

* * *

Jemma was setting the table when Phil got home.

"Did you start dinner?" he asked, surprised. He walked over to the stove, where a pot of soup was simmering under a glass lid. "Thanks, honey."

"I noticed you were late, and thought you'd still like to eat on time. Grant didn't say what he wanted, so I defaulted to vegetable soup. I hope that's alright."

"It's great," he assured her, reaching for the lid to stir it. His stomach seemed to rumble in anticipation. She'd been making this soup since she was twelve, and Phil still wasn't sure exactly how she did it so well.

"Dad, what is that?"

Phil stopped, but Jemma had already reached his side and grabbed his hand.

"A ring? Is that a wedding ring? Dad, what's going on?"

"Jemma, slow down," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. He could see her starting to freak out, her words fast and rising in pitch. "Yes, it's a wedding ring, but it's not what you think."

"How is it not what I think? You got married? Why didn't you tell us -?"

"It's for an undercover assignment," he said over her, keeping her gaze. "Fury's orders."

Her eyes searched his face for a few seconds before she leaned forward and hugged him. "Thank goodness."

He patted her back. That hadn't been the way he'd planned on introducing the assignment, but he couldn't change it now. "Where's Grant?"

"Where do you think?" she asked with a half-hearted smile. She started stirring the soup, and Phil walked to Grant's room.

"What?" came the grouchy voice after Phil knocked on the door.

Phil opened it and was surprised at how dark it was. "You could turn a light on."

"It was light when I started. Got dark around me." Grant didn't turn from his computer, and Phil watched him play his video game for a minute.

"Come into the kitchen," he said when it seemed like Grant had finished his level. "Dinner's almost ready, and we need to talk."

"One more level."

"Your game can wait," Phil said sternly. Grant heard the warning in his tone and sighed. Phil turned and walked back into the kitchen, confident Grant would follow. Jemma was still standing by the stove, seemingly staring at the soup. "Come sit down," Phil said gently, trying not to startle her.

They sat around their small, circular table, Grant and Jemma looking at Phil expectantly. "Director Fury is putting me on a new mission. It's gonna take some time, and I need your help." He sighed. Time to rip off the Band-Aid. "We're going to live in a different house for a while, with Agent May and her kids. We're going to pretend we're one big family."

They reacted pretty much as he'd expected them to. Jemma was silent, a slightly terrified look in her eyes as she processed internally. Grant was vocal, and angry.

"How can you make us move? We're not some agents Fury can boss around. I'll stay here on my own -."

"You will not," Phil said. "I know this doesn't seem fair, but the Director needs May and I to do this. And we're staying together."

Grant was seething, but didn't say anything else. He would have more to say, later, but for now he seemed content with glaring. Jemma was wringing her hands in her lap anxiously. "Dad, what if… what if we don't get along with them? Will we need to change schools?"

"Hey," Phil said soothingly. "I know it's a lot to take in, but it's just for a little while. Okay? Everything's gonna go back to normal after May and I are done with this assignment."

Jemma looked at him, a little doubtful but trusting. Grant wouldn't meet his eyes, glaring at the table.

"It's been a long day," Phil said, standing up. "Let's eat."


	3. Moving In

Grant didn't speak to Phil the rest of the week, beyond answering the direct questions Phil asked about his progress packing. Phil tried to remember that, if he were in their position, he would probably feel just as angry, but he really hoped Grant got over it soon.

Phil had met with May and Fury multiple times leading up to the weekend, when they would actually move. Fury had told he and May that their houses would be held for them, and they didn't have to move everything; the basic furniture of the house they would be staying in was still there, which made their lives a little easier. It was three hours away from where they lived now.

"We'll be back before you know it," Phil promised, as he, Grant, and Jemma stood in front of their house that Saturday morning.

Grant threw a duffel bag over his shoulder and walked to the truck. Jemma kept looking at the house until Phil touched her on the shoulder, and then she walked with him to the car. Phil pretended not to notice the tears in her eyes, because he knew she was trying her hardest to hide them from him. To be brave for him. It just made him feel worse about all this. They didn't talk much on the drive, as they followed the truck that had the furniture they'd decided to bring.

May and her kids beat them to the house, but not by much: Phil saw them pull into the driveway. Phil stepped out of the car to see May walking towards him.

"Hey honey," she said. It almost seemed ironic, but Phil remembered that from this point forward, they were officially undercover.

"You want to divide and conquer?" he asked. "Your side starts bringing stuff inside, mine unpacks the cars?"

She grabbed a box of stuff. "Come on, guys."

Phil watched May's kids follow May up to the house. She unlocked the double doors on the porch, throwing them open for the movers, and then disappeared inside. It was bigger than his, with two floors instead of one. From the diagrams Fury had shown him, the inside seemed spacious and neat. There were five bedrooms upstairs. The downstairs had an open floor kitchen/living room, which connected to a study and dining room, and one full bathroom and a half one in the entryway. It wasn't a layout Phil would have picked, but it was supposed to fit everyone. He definitely liked the outside, with its yellow paneling and white borders. Fury had convinced the owners to move, so it was right next to their targets. That was the most important thing. Phil turned to his car and started pulling out boxes and bags, bringing them to the porch and setting them there.

Grant was sticking to their car, so Phil started moving things from May's. He'd only been in her personal car once or twice, so the neatness still surprised him. He only managed to clean his car once a month or so. Jemma was shadowing him, sticking close. "How're you doing?" he asked her.

"I'm fine. Just anxious to see the inside."

Phil straightened from the trunk and saw Skye walking out with a quick stride. She seemed mad, and Phil saw May in the doorway. "Can you get these last few bags? Then we can start moving things into the rooms." He walked up to the porch. "How's it look?" he asked May.

"It's in good shape. But there is a potential problem…" Skye walked by with a bag of sheets and blankets.

She was definitely mad.

"What happened?"

"The diagrams Fury showed us are old, probably the first draft for the house. The upstairs has four bedrooms, one bathroom. Not five bedrooms."

Phil stopped in the doorway. "Someone else has to share a room." Fitz and Trip had volunteered to share already. There was only one other possibility, and Phil looked back at Jemma, and then in the direction Skye had gone. "It has to be the girls." No wonder Skye was mad. They'd been promised their own rooms, as some consolation for moving so suddenly.

Grant walked up, dropping a sack at Phil's feet. Jemma stood behind him. "Everything's out of the cars," Grant said.

"Fitz, Trip, what's taking so long?" May called into the house. She picked up more stuff and walked it in.

"Thanks, you two. Let's go see your rooms." Phil started walking in. "There's something you should know, though…"

Jemma seemed to take it fine. Grant had his own room, so he had nothing to complain about (nothing new, anyway).

It took them a little over an hour to get the furniture and boxes moved to the appropriate rooms (favorite armchairs, end tables, a loveseat to add to the living room). The movers left. At that point, the only unpacking they had left to do was in individual bedrooms.

He and May would share the master bedroom, of course, which Phil was kind of nervous about. Phil kept pacing outside the rooms upstairs, listening for signs of trouble or distress from any of the kids. May motioned for him to come into the master bedroom after twenty minutes of his pacing, and shut the door behind him.

"You're hovering," she said.

He turned to look at her. She stayed in front of the door, as if she thought he would run back out. "How can I not? Did you notice how quiet it is, May? We have five teenagers in this house, and I don't hear one of them."

"They're unpacking. Like we should be." She walked over to him. "If you're worried about it being quiet, just wait. We're gonna get an earful once their spaces are settled."

"Mom!"

May closed her eyes. "Which looks like it's now."

"Mom!"

"I think that's for you," Phil said.

They walked into the hallway to see May's boys standing outside their room. "What is it?" May asked.

"Our stuff doesn't fit."

Phil peered into the room. The two twin beds were on opposite sides of the room. Between the beds, two desks, and boxes of books, there wasn't much space for walking.

"It does look a bit tight, but it should be better once those boxes are unpacked," Phil said.

Trip looked at him for a second. "There's nowhere to put them."

"Let me help," May said, moving into the room.

Phil hovered for a minute and then went back to pacing (this time in his room, with the door open). When May came back in, Phil couldn't wait any longer. "I have to know they're okay," he said, and walked down the hallway, knocking on all the doors.

One by one the teenagers appeared, some sticking just their heads out the doors, some stepping fully outside. One face was missing, actually.

"Where's Skye?" May asked.

"She went downstairs," Jemma said.

"I think it's time we get to know each other a little bit, and talk about this situation," Phil said. "Can everyone come downstairs to the living room? Thanks."

* * *

Skye was in the living room, leaning over her cell phone with earbuds in when they got downstairs. She took out the earbuds but kept her phone in her lap as everyone took a seat.

The living room was arranged in a kind of circle, but May's kids still managed to stay on an opposite side from Phil's. May sat on the edge of the chair next to Phil's and leaned forward. "No one's gonna bite," she told them. "Right now you definitely don't pass for siblings."

"We only have to act like that when other people are around," Skye said.

"But if you don't practice it in private, you'll forget in public." May looked at Skye first, since she seemed to be the most vocal. "Do you know everyone's names?"

Skye raised an eyebrow, conveying an almost impressive amount of sass with the small gesture. If it wasn't directed at her, May would have been proud. "Jenna and Grant," Skye said lazily, gesturing at Phil's kids.

"Jemma," Jemma corrected gently.

"Whatever."

May looked at Grant. "Do you know their names?"

Grant just stared at her. "Skye, Trip, and Fitz," Jemma said, after a quick glance at him. She looked at them. "That's what you like to be called anyway, isn't that right?"

"You got it right, girl," Trip said with an easygoing smile. "My real name's Antoine, but that's just cause my grandad insisted. Trip fits me better."

"'Specially since you're so clumsy," Fitz said quietly, with a slight upturn of his lips.

May looked at the ring on her finger. It had been a few days, and it still felt strange to wear a ring after so many years without one. "The only thing you don't have to do all the time is call us Mom and Dad. I don't want to force that on you."

"I know this is weird," Phil said, "and you probably think it's unfair. But Director Fury wouldn't have chosen us for this assignment if he didn't think we could do it – not just May and I. All of us."

May looked at the kids' reactions, and was happily surprised that most of them seemed contented by Phil's words. She hadn't seen an expression on Grant's face other than anger yet, and Skye rolled her eyes. They were the oldest, so she understood that they might have the most lastingly negative impression.

"We want to try to make this a little easier," Phil continued, looking at May as if to say 'go along with me.' "You guys pick a place for dinner."

"We don't know any places here," Fitz pointed out.

"Then we'll find a good one," May said. She liked this plan. "Get things settled in your rooms, and then we'll go out. Sound like a plan?"

The kids nodded, and May watched them move back towards the stairs like a little army. She waited until the sound of their footsteps on the stairs had stopped before casting Phil a satisfied look. "That's the first hurdle down."

"Now it's time for the marathon," he agreed.

May thought things seemed to be going pretty well, actually.

She had no idea.


	4. Hierarchy

Skye reluctantly walked back to her room after the "family meeting." She wanted to stay out of it as much as possible, but if Mom and Agent Coulson were down in the living room… it was easier to come up to the room. She could ignore Jemma easily enough if she blasted her music loud enough and closed her eyes.

She walked into the room and jumped back on her bed. She watched Jemma as she got out her phone and earbuds, unable to help herself. The girl was moving so hesitantly Skye wanted to yell at her, just to make her move faster. Skye sighed and closed her eyes, turning on a pop rock album.

She was a couple of songs into it when she had to open her eyes, to see what was going on. Jemma was arranging the top of her desk, with a line of books placed along the back of it, spines out, and a laptop placed in the center. On the right corner was a blue lamp with a base designed like a T.A.R.D.I.S. from Doctor Who.

"What are you, twelve?" Skye asked, pulling out an earbud in a quick movement.

"Fourteen, actually, and I'll be fifteen soon."

Skye huffed and sat up. "Why do I have to be stuck with the baby?"

"I'm not a baby."

Skye looked at her and laughed at how indignant she seemed.

Jemma straightened, crossing her arms. "I'm doing college-level work."

"Big whup. So am I."

It seemed like Jemma wanted to try to glare at her. Skye kept her gaze steady, and her lips quirked up in a smile when Jemma backed down almost immediately. Maybe it would be a pain having a little roommate, but if she was this easy to deal with all the time… it might be a little fun.

"Okay, Jemma," Skye said, sliding to a standing position. She had a good three inches on Jemma, and used them to her advantage. "Neither of us wants to be here, so let's get a few things straight. We're not gonna talk at night. We're gonna avoid each other as much as possible. Got it?"

"We're supposed to pretend to be sisters," Jemma said quietly.

"Sisters don't always get along," Skye said. "We won't even have to pretend that part."

Jemma nodded, not meeting her eyes, and Skye smiled. "Glad we're on the same page."

* * *

"Dude, your desk is a mess," Trip said.

"Maybe to you," Fitz countered. "To me, everything is where I can easily access it."

Trip shook his head. Fitz was definitely messier than him, which would take a little getting used to. He didn't see much of his little brother though, and kind of looked forward to sharing a room with him. Frankly, he was a little concerned for Fitz's social life – mainly because he didn't appear to have one. It wasn't like Trip was out on the town a lot, but he hung out with friends at least one night of each weekend. Fitz was always at home, messing around with his tech and gadgets. And Trip knew Fitz had at least one friend at their school. Here, in a new place with a brand new school, he would have to push Fitz to interact with others. He didn't want Fitz to miss out.

So although he hadn't wanted to leave his home, and was a little upset that it had been so sudden, he could appreciate the idea that good things could come from it. His granddad had taught him to be adventurous, and roll with the punches. If you rolled with them, granddad had said, you might end up barreling into something fun.

Granddad had taught him a lot, even though he'd died when Trip was seven. Trip wished he'd known Fitz back then. He thought his granddad could have helped Fitz come out of his shell more.

"We should get downstairs," Trip said, once both he and Fitz had finished putting things away. "Think any of the others looked up a place to eat?"

"Doubtful. I'll come up with a few suggestions." Fitz whipped out his big-ass phone (honestly, how was it different than a tablet at this point?) and started searching as they walked downstairs. "Looks like there's an Olive Garden not too far, we haven't been there in some time," Fitz said. Trip didn't say anything, knowing Fitz was mostly just thinking aloud. Fitz would recite a longer list once everyone was down there.

Grant was the first one to show up, and when he saw just Trip and Fitz, Grant's jaw seemed to clench. Trip knew next to nothing about either of Agent Coulson's – "dad's" – kids, but from what he'd seen of them so far, Grant was intimidating. He had this angry look in his eyes, that Trip really hoped went away.

"A buffet might be more popular, since everyone can pick what they like," Fitz said.

Grant looked at him, and then at Trip. "Is he talking to himself?"

"More or less," Trip said. "He's looking for a place for dinner."

Grant sat on the couch. "This whole thing is ridiculous. Why they're making us go out our first night here…"

"They want us to get to know each other," Trip said.

Grant scowled at him, and Trip regretted it. He didn't say anything else until Agent Coulson and Mom walked in. It looked like they'd been in the study, because Trip clearly heard when Jemma and Skye came down the stairs. That would be one thing to remember about this house: it was easy to hear people moving around in it.

"So, did you think of a place?" Mom asked.

"I've got a few options," Fitz said. "Olive Garden, Buffet Delights, Subway, Joe's Burger Shop, Denny's. I'm sure there are more in a relatively close range, but that's what I've found so far…"

"What do people feel like?" Agent Coulson asked.

"Burgers," Grant said, as Trip said "buffet."

"Two votes, three people silent," Mom said. "What's your decision, between those two?"

The minute that it took for Skye, Jemma, and Fitz to speak up felt like five times that long as Trip felt Grant's eyes fixed on him. Two votes for the buffet, one for burgers.

"The buffets have it," Mom said. "Let's get going."

"How are we getting there?" Skye asked. "Please don't make us cram into one car."

"We won't be crammed," Mom told her. "My car has seven seats. We're seven people."

Trip could see a cold front forming between Skye and Mom, and decided to try to give Skye as much space as possible in the car, to make the fight shorter. He climbed into the back. Fitz sat next to him. Skye and Grant took the two middle seats, and Jemma started to get in on Skye's side, then ran around the opposite way to get in on Grant's. She slid into the back corner seat, with her head down, and Trip shook his head in confusion as to what exactly that was.

Trip decided right upon walking in that the buffet was his new favorite place to eat. It seemed like everyone found something they liked (Grant seemed like a meat lover, because he hit up the steak immediately). Trip found multiple somethings he liked, and went up for seconds at a few different stations. (Who knew when they would go there again?) The ride home was just as quiet as the ride there, but it didn't seem quite as tense. Probably because everyone had full bellies, which made it harder to be angry.

He was glad to be home, though. He didn't know if anyone else had picked up on it, but there was some serious hostility in the way Skye was looking at Jemma and Grant. While Grant had a (seemingly permanent) angry look, it wasn't directed at anyone, as far as Trip could tell. Trip had a bad feeling Skye was planning on taking her anger at Mom out on Agent Coulson's kids.

They had the rest of the day, and one more weekend day, before they started at their new school. Trip sincerely hoped Skye got the anger out of her system before then. But he knew his sister. He remembered how she'd fought with Abby Trudd for a year, after they fought over a boy. Skye was good at holding onto her emotions.

Trip didn't know if she realized she got that from their mom.


	5. Engineering and Biochem

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the gap since the last update! I've been working on a few stories for The Flash, and neglecting this one. I'll try to be better about that from now on. Thank you for all the reviews. I appreciate them more than you know. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

"Why are you already doing homework?"

Jemma looked up at Skye's voice. "Not homework," she corrected gently. "Free studying. I like it."

"It's a Saturday night."

"Yes," Jemma agreed, turning it into a question near the end. She didn't get why it was such a big deal for her to be reading a chemistry textbook. She was well aware that this behavior wasn't typical of a lot of people on Saturday nights, but she also knew that for many others, it was positively normal. And if she wanted to get into S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy early, she had to work round the clock in her studies.

"So you don't just look like a nerd, then. You actually are one."

Jemma didn't say anything, turning back to her textbook. Organic molecules and compounds, her current chapter read –

A blaring musical theme made her eyes jump from the page, and she whirled to face Skye. The other girl lay on her bed, laptop propped open and apparently playing something. Jemma just looked at her for a few seconds, hesitating, before asking a question as dialogue started. "Would you mind using your headphones?"

"Yes."

The direct answer was surprising. "Then would you at least turn it down?"

Skye glanced at her with a satisfied little upturn of her lips. "But where's the fun in that?"

Jemma turned back to her desk, irritation spiking. She had dealt with distractions before, when Grant's video games seemed to move right through the walls. Of course then, if it had gotten too loud, she had just gone down to the kitchen table, but she knew it was important for her to stick it out in this case. Skye was testing her limits. If Jemma quailed at the first sign of trouble, living here would be a nightmare. So she tried her best to block out the movie Skye was watching.

She made it almost an hour. In that time, she tried just focusing on the page, but then the dialogue kept appearing between the lines of the text as she read. She tried putting on her own headphones, but she'd never been able to focus as well with music of her own. So when she was still on that same chapter, almost an hour after starting, she didn't care about the importance of sticking it out. She picked up her textbook and walked out, doing her best not to look at Skye as she did, to avoid what she knew would be a particularly victorious expression.

Jemma peeked into the study first, and when she saw no one there, she almost smiled. It was a bit bigger than the room she was sharing with Skye, with a large desk against one wall. A very comfortable looking chair was situated in the far corner, with a lamp in easy reach. A perfect reading nook. Jemma closed the door of the study and sat down with a contented sigh. This would definitely be a room she frequented often.

In the silent, cozy room, she finished the first chapter and the entirety of a second one before anything changed. As she was debating starting a third chapter or reviewing older ones, the door of the study opened to reveal Fitz.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw her. "I didn't think anyone would be in here."

"I needed a quiet place to read."

Dad had told her that Fitz was the same age as her, but, like she was told about her own looks, he appeared younger. "I just wanted to see how the desk measures." He stepped inside and walked over to the large desk, running his hands along the sides. "Two feet longer," he said.

"Are you working on something that needs more space?"

He looked up with that same slightly startled expression, as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Yeah. I like to spread out my work. Would you mind if I brought it in here?"

"Go ahead," she said. She was curious as to what he was working on. She didn't really know anything about Agent May's children. She kept the chemistry book open, pretending to read as she watched him come back in with a box of what looked like metal bits. He sat down at the desk immediately, unloading the box, and Jemma closed the book and walked over. "What are you doing?"

"Reconstructing a robot," he said. "I took it apart yesterday."

"Don't you need instructions or something?"

He glanced up at her for a second. "I would if I were trying to replicate it. I'm going to improve it. There's a basic flaw in the design, that takes up space and reduces function. Putting in a different part will fix that, if I can just make it fit."

She looked at the loose gears and springs, and saw a few battery packs. "Did you make those?"

"I'm learning. It's hard to do at home, without the good tech, but I can do out the schematics here. The college back home used to let me use their materials."

He didn't look at her much as he spoke, and his voice was slightly hesitant, but she could tell from the precision of his movements and the care in his gaze as he looked at the parts that he was intelligent. A part of her was drawn closer to him, eager to see how is mind worked. Another part felt a challenge stirring, as she realized she wasn't the only one doing work well above average. If he'd been able to use the tools from a college, he had to be smart. She'd sat in on scientific lectures at one of the local colleges back home. For a long time now she'd taken her intelligence as something that made her special. Now, looking at Fitz and seeing that he may well be the same level of intelligence as her… she felt something stirring in her chest, which took her a second to identify as jealousy.

"So what do you usually study?" she asked.

"Engineering."

"I go back and forth between biology and chemistry."

"They are pretty similar, so that makes sense."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, though he didn't look up, so she doubted he noticed. Now she definitely had to see how his mind worked, and what he knew about her fields of study.

She had to see if he was going to be a rival for her in school.

* * *

Fitz worked on rebuilding the robot late into the night. He was surprised that Jemma stayed with him the whole time – and surprised to find that he was glad she did. He usually hated people looking over his shoulder, watching him work.

Then again, this hadn't felt like that at all. A few times she'd pointed out pieces that fit in the spot he was building. She wasn't just watching, but actively engaging with the project. She seemed to talk easily enough as well, which was good. Fitz wasn't the best with starting conversations.

He was glad he'd decided to work in the study, though. He had to get to know her, to see what they had in common – and if the fact that they seemed to be getting on so well tonight was a coincidence or meant they were compatible.

He had to see if she was going to be a friend for him in school.

* * *

 **A/N: Have you seen the deleted scenes from season 1? One focuses on Fitz and Simmons in the Academy episode, and goes into more detail about how Fitz and Simmons started: she thought he was a great rival, while he was too nervous to really talk to her (something I find absolutely adorable!). I wanted to put some of that same feeling in this story. Let me know if you liked it!**


	6. Waking Up

Skye turned the movie off as soon as Jemma left. The girl had lasted longer than she'd thought she would: she might actually put up a fight for control of the room. Skye would be the one to win. If there was one thing she needed, it was a space that was completely her own. At her old house (her real house) everyone had had their own room. This place was bigger, but because of the layout, felt so much more compressed.

She had to make Mom and Agent "Dad" see what a mistake this was, before things went too far. Before she missed too much at her real school, and her friends moved on. It was senior year after all. The last hurrah before she chose which branch of S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy to go to. She wasn't concerned about getting in. Her grades were fine; her electives in graphic design gave her GPA the boost it needed to be almost an A. She was definitely going to the Academy instead of a regular college. Mom always had the best tech to play with when she came home.

She couldn't start off by going after the parents. They hadn't even been here a day, so she knew they would associate it with her being angry. They weren't wrong about that. But she had to make them think the families weren't compatible. She had to make them see that this was a bad move.

So she would focus her efforts on the kids. Jemma would be easy enough to push around. Skye knew how to annoy Fitz and Trip too, so all she had to do for them was blame someone else. Grant… Grant might actually help her, she realized. He seemed just as angry as she was. She stood and walked to his room, knocking quietly on the door.

"What?"

She opened the door enough to stick her head in. "I need to talk to you."

Grant was sitting in one of those gaming chairs, a war game on his TV. "If you wanna try to be friends, I'm not interested."

Skye stepped in the room fully and closed the door. "I want to go back to my house. And I think you want the same thing."

He still didn't look at her. "And?"

"And I think we can make it happen."

He paused the game and set down the controller. "How?"

She sat on the edge of his bed. "We make the parents think being here is bad for us. Show them we can't live together, and they'll have to bring us back home."

He finally seemed interested, and she saw a glimmer of respect in his eyes as he turned to face her. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"

* * *

Phil woke up to an empty bed, which wasn't surprising. It was normal. The part he wasn't used to was seeing May going through a tai chi routine near the door. She was silent, moving slowly and precisely. He watched her, somewhat entranced, until she turned and saw that he was awake.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to stare."

She continued with her latest movement, bringing her arms close to her body and then pushing out to one side. "I didn't realize you were."

"Oh." He put his legs over the edge of the bed. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long."

He sat there for a few seconds, somewhat awkwardly. The first night hadn't been as awkward as he'd thought it might be (she'd gone to shower, and he'd been asleep by the time she got out), but that awkwardness was appearing now. "And ideas on what we should do today? I feel like we need some bonding activities or they'll stay shut in their rooms."

"You might be right, but we can't go anywhere for long. Fury wants us to stay close."

He'd forgotten about that. He and May actually needed to set up the monitoring equipment as well. They could worry about that more when the kids started school tomorrow. Today, he really wanted to figure out some way to make things easier for the teenagers. "You've got three of them; how do you make yours interact?"

May thought for a few seconds, then hesitated. "It might sound bad, but I get Trip on my side. He can say the same things to Fitz and Skye that I would, but they listen to him when they won't to me. Probably because they don't want to disappoint him."

"Sibling guilt," Phil said with a slight upturn of his lips. "I've used that to get Grant to do a few things in the past."

"We still need an activity," May reminded him.

Phil sighed. He'd have to keep thinking on it. "Maybe the kids will have something in mind."

He could tell from her expression that she was skeptical. He chose to hide his own skepticism as he stood and walked to the dresser. He brought his clothes for the day into the bathroom, and when he came out a few minutes later, May was sitting on the edge of the bed. "You know they're probably not up yet, don't you?"

He didn't answer as he walked downstairs, looking expectantly at the kitchen as he reached it. Sure enough, Jemma was there.

"Morning sweetie," Phil greeted.

"Morning Dad, Agent May."

Though May's expression remained the same, Phil thought she was surprised. "How was the first night?" May asked.

"Perfectly fine." She was looking down at the coffee in her hands as she handed the mug to Phil. "I just made it, so it's hot," she warned. "Agent May, would you like some?"

May was already reaching into a cabinet and pulling out an orange tin. "I'll make tea, thanks."

Phil kissed the top of Jemma's head in thanks before starting to drink, trying to interpret how her night had really been. He'd worried about the kids last night. Not as much Trip and Fitz, since they were already siblings, but the girls. They just seemed so different. Nothing seemed wrong, though, so he let himself stop fretting. That could continue once the others were down here, and he could try to interpret how their nights had been.

"You wouldn't have any ideas for what we should do today, would you?" Phil asked Jemma.

She shook her head, and Phil took another sip of coffee. Hopefully the others came downstairs soon.

They did, in an order that wasn't too shocking: Trip, Fitz, Skye, Grant. The oldest took the longest, as he'd thought they might. Grant had gone days where he'd slept till noon, so Phil was thankful they were all there by 9:30.

He was also pleased to see Trip sit next to Jemma and start talking with her. Fitz sat awkwardly next to them, but it was something.

He was about to broach the subject of what they should do for the day, once they'd all had breakfast (he made waffles, and found out that Skye liked Nutella on hers; something he'd never tried but would have to next time he made waffles). Before he could he heard a knock on the door though, and did a head count. Everyone was here. So who could it be?

* * *

At about ten o'clock there was a knock on the front door. May rose to answer it without much thought. Her brain stayed the same way when she saw who stood on their porch, momentarily pausing aside from flashing the word _target_ over and over.

"Hi. Hope we're not too early. We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood."

The Garret's stood in the entryway, smiling.

Their targets had made contact.

* * *

 **A/N: The battle lines are being drawn. If you have any ideas for the 'bonding activities' that May and Coulson might try, please let me know. All I've got right now is apple picking.**

 **Things will go faster from this point. Tensions will definitely rise. Leave me a review with your thoughts!**


	7. Won't You Be My Neighbor?

"Oh, we should have waited a little longer," the woman said.

May blinked and came back to herself. "I'm sorry. Please, come in." She stepped back as the family of three walked into the house. "Phil," she called lightly. "We have company."

Coulson appeared at her side quickly. May could see the kids peering into the hallway. When Coulson saw the Garrets, she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Hi."

The man extended a hand. "John Garret. This is my wife Victoria, and our daughter, Ophelia. We live next door."

Coulson shook his hand, turning on his smile. "Nice to meet you. Phil Coulson."

May took in the basket Victoria was holding. "Let's go in the living room, where we can talk." She led them into the living room/kitchen section of the house and took the basket from Victoria, setting it on the table. The basket was filled with as assortment of muffins. "These look great."

"I baked them this morning," Victoria said. "We saw you moving in yesterday and wanted to be the first to say welcome to the neighborhood."

"And you are. I'm May." May looked over at Coulson and saw him waiting for her to make the next move. The kids were standing in the living room, also waiting. "You guys can talk. Introduce yourselves."

They did, and then May gestured for the Garrets to sit down. She moved next to Coulson, across from them. Victoria was looking at the kids, John at Coulson. Victoria spoke first.

"Are you going to Terrace school?" she asked. "You're upperclassmen," she said, looking at Skye and Grant. Skye nodded. Victoria looked at Trip, Fitz, and Jemma. "Are any of you in ninth grade?"

"Mom," Ophelia started.

"I am," Fitz and Jemma said at the same time. They looked at each other, and May saw a slight crinkling around Fitz's mouth. From her boy, that was practically a grin.

"See, now I'm glad I asked," Victoria said. "Ophelia's a freshman too, so she can show you around tomorrow."

Ophelia had her eyes locked on Fitz. "I'd be happy to."

"Erm, yeah, that'd be nice," Fitz stammered.

"Could you tell us about the teachers?" Jemma asked. "I'd like to get to know them before we start, if it's possible."

"They're fine," Ophelia said quickly. "Nothing much to say."

"I'm sure they're nice," Fitz said.

"All teachers are nice," Trip said.

Skye scoffed. "Yeah right."

"Skye," May said. She could hear the fight in her daughter's voice, and hoped she reigned it in. At least while the Garrets were here. Then again, the kids didn't know what the mission was, so they had no reason to act beyond calling them mom and dad.

"I never had a bad teacher," Trip said, leaning forward to look at Skye.

"You had Mr. Bezo last year. I had him two years ago, and he was a jerk."

"Not to me."

"Students respond to teachers in different ways," Coulson said. May shot him an appreciative glance as Skye settled back against the couch.

"Sounds like you have some experience with it. Only question is whether you know from the student's perspective or the teacher's." John had a lined face, one that seemed capable of alternating between a straight face and a smile in seconds. It seemed more solemn at the moment. He was getting information. Probably just because he was curious, but May took it into account.

Coulson showed no suspicion. May marveled at how personable he seemed. But maybe it wasn't a farce. She'd known Coulson for years. It would be in his character to be kind to the people they were planning on busting, just for the sake of being kind. "Student. I did used to want to be a teacher, though."

May's only outward reaction was blinking, but inwardly she was surprised. She honestly hadn't known that. She supposed there was a lot about Coulson she didn't know, though.

* * *

"What about you?" Agent May asked John. "Student or teacher?"

"Intermediate. I work at a bank, but I coach the football team. I like to think that counts as a sort of teacher." He looked at Grant. "You seem like a strong fella. You play?"

"Never tried," Grant said.

"Well consider it. If it's okay with your parents, anyway. The team could use a guy like you. I'd love to give you a few pointers."

"I'll think about it." The guy didn't even know if Grant had held a football before, and he was saying they could use him? Yeah right. Grant guessed the team must not have a lot of strong guys. It was the only reason for John to try and recruit Grant without knowing his skill level. (Though of course Grant had held a football before. He wasn't half bad. He'd just never tried out for a team before.)

John smiled. "That's all I ask."

Grant flicked his eyes to Skye as the visitors started talking to Agent May. She met his eyes for barely a second, but he got the message clear enough: play along. If they wanted their efforts to have an impact, they had to wait a little longer to start. He might actually get something out of football practice, and it would seem like he was adjusting. Two birds, one stone.

The visitors left not long after that. Once they were out the door Grant stood, ready to go to his room. "Thank you," Dad said.

Grant stopped moving.

"You were so good with them," Dad continued.

"You make it sound like we're toddlers," Skye said.

"Sounds like someone could use a nap," Trip quipped. Grant could practically feel Skye's irritation. And that was with her own sibling. He'd underestimated just how upset Skye was about all of this. He was almost tempted to ask if she wanted to play Call of Duty (rapid-fire blasting a bunch of zombies always helped him feel better). Almost, but he wanted to be alone.

So of course he wasn't allowed to be. "Alright guys, let's get to work," Agent May said.

Everyone looked at her in confusion. Even Dad. "Work?" Fitz asked.

Agent May stood with her hands on her hips. "This house is in good shape, but the only things we've fully unpacked are our rooms. We're gonna clean and decorate the rest of the house."

Grant glared for a few seconds before realizing it was futile. The woman wouldn't be intimidated by him. So he worked without complaint, though he knew everyone could tell he was displeased. He was fine with that. In a few days he would make sure they felt the same way.

* * *

 **A/N: What do you think of the targets?**


	8. Starting at Terrace

Jemma dressed in the dark and slipped on her backpack. She almost forgot her chemistry textbook before she closed the door, and grabbed it from under her bed. Normally she hated keeping books under there, but she'd read in the study until bed the night before, and rushed to get under the covers. She wrapped her arms around the textbook as she crept down the stairs and back to the study. It was four o'clock in the morning.

She knew her body was still tired, but she'd woken up and felt instantly awake. Today was her first day at their new school. Jemma didn't tend to do well with first days. Coming off of being in a new house, with new people and a new roommate she was positive hated her, her usual nervousness was somewhat amplified.

She hated not knowing what was coming, and after turning on the lamp in the study, curled up in the reading chair, hugging her textbook close. An hour and a half until she usually got up. An hour after that until Dad drove her to school. Well, until Agent May drove the lot of them to school. Another change. Her grip on the book tightened.

She'd gotten control of herself by the time the others came downstairs, and made the coffee for Dad like she always did. Agent May seemed surprised when she saw that Jemma had set out the orange tea tin for her.

"Girl, how early do you get up?" Trip asked Jemma, reaching for a piece of toast.

She swallowed quickly. "About two hours before we leave for school. That's not what you do?"

"Trip woke up ten minutes ago," Fitz said.

Trip grinned. "I like to see how fast I can get ready."

"I'm the early-riser in our family," Fitz said. "Well, aside from Mom."

They finished their breakfast without much more conversation and got ready to drive to Terrace school. Skye and Grant went to the car first, closely followed by Trip and Fitz. As Jemma was about to walk out the door Dad caught at her arm and pulled her into a hug.

"They're gonna love you," he said softly.

She smiled.

The day did go fairly well, until about halfway through. In English Literature they had a verbal pop quiz, and Jemma messed up. She switched Shakespeare's birthplace from Stratford-upon-Avon to Avon-upon-Stratford. Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment, which only made her more embarrassed, and her next few attempts at answers failed miserably because of sudden doubt in her correctness. She spent the remainder of the period in silence, waiting for the bell to ring and let her go to AP Chemistry. She hated first days.

* * *

Trip liked their new school. Even though the term had already started, he was able to jump right into the assignments. He had a few study halls, since he wasn't filling his schedule with accelerated classes like Fitz and didn't have an elective passion like Skye. Well, not officially. He'd just started dabbling in music at the beginning of the school year. By mid-week being at their new school he had gone to the music teacher to see if he could join anything.

The teacher seemed nice. Mrs. Petar. She told him he could come to one of the lesson periods the band kids had. The lesson periods were broken up by instrument, and when she asked what he played, he didn't hesitate.

He remembered his granddad telling him stories about his parents. One of granddad's favorites had been how Trip's dad would play the violin for his wife, every night when she was pregnant with Trip. Sometimes Trip thought he could remember the music, though he knew he couldn't really. Granddad had always said he missed hearing the music, and hoped Trip would find a passion like his father had. Music may not have been Trip's passion, but he certainly cared for it.

Trip liked having fifth period violin lessons. He wasn't very good at it yet, but he admired the way the other three violin players knew their craft. It was his favorite part of the school day.

By the end of the first week, Trip felt comfortable in the school. He got used to sharing a room with his quiet little brother (though Fitz did keep the light on late sometimes as he worked with his mechanical scraps…). He didn't know how the others were doing. They all answered the questions from Mom and Agent Coulson at dinner, but they weren't always detailed answers. Fitz talked a little, answering fully but not giving extra information. Jemma talked a lot, reporting. Skye offered one-word responses that sounded like attacks, and Grant mostly grunted. Trip could tell that Skye was still in a dangerously wicked mood, though she didn't seem overly hostile. It had him slightly concerned that she was biding her time for something.

Trip knew the week wasn't going to be the new normal. It was a transition period. Whatever started that weekend would be closer to normal activity. And it seemed like the parents had plans to force more interaction between them. He was tempted to go to Mom and tell her his concerns about Skye. In the past, nothing would have held him back. But a strange sense of sibling loyalty took root inside him, as he realized that maybe Skye wasn't planning anything. Maybe she was just struggling. So he stayed silent, but kept an eye on her when they were home, equally ready to either talk to her or tell Mom – depending on what he found.


End file.
